Holding On

“I’m sorry.”

Peter Parker had learned from his uncle Ben that starting
with an apology was the best way to bridge an argument.But he and Harry hadn’t actually fought and
Peter had been apologizing about everything all his life.It was doubtful the words meant anything
anymore.

Harry Osborn’s shoulders were stiff and he didn’t turn
around.Peter opened his mouth and
closed it again because he didn’t know what to say next.How do you explain to your best friend that
his father, Norman Osborn, had been a maniacal murderer known as the Green
Goblin?However, as Peter’s gaze
traveled over the gizmos and gadgets in the dusty passage where they stood, it
looked as though that goblin was out of the bag.

Dressed in street clothes, Peter tucked his hands in his
jeans pockets and looked down at his feet.He had come to the Osborn penthouse as soon as M.J. was safe in her
fiancé’s arms.Although it left an ache
in his heart, Peter had resigned himself to the fact that Mary Jane Watson
would be better off and in less danger as Mary Jane Jameson.

But Peter hadn’t resigned himself to the fact that he had
lost his best friend, too.He eyed
Harry.Bitterness and pain clung to
Harry like a cloak.Somehow, Peter had
to make things right.A secret room,
hidden behind a broken mirror, with a pointed, green mask staring at him with
yellow eyes, was as good a place to start as any.

“Wouldn’t tell me that you killed him, you mean,” Harry said
in a tight voice.Anger, loathing,
grief, and pain colored his tone.

“It was an accident,” Peter said, the acrid taste of death
on his tongue.“He tried to impale me
with his glider, but it… got him, instead.”

Harry said nothing.His left hand clenched in a fist, while his right tightened around the
empty glass he held.

“I don’t kill people, Harry, no matter what the Daily
Bugle implies.”Peter closed his
eyes against the half-lie.People had
died because of him, but never by his direct hand.“I didn’t know it was your father until the end.I would’ve tried to get him some help—”

“Instead, there was an ‘accident.’How convenient.”

Peter winced.He
stepped back defensively into the shadows of the support pillars.“I would never do anything on purpose to
hurt you.”

Harry barked in harsh laughter.“I think we’ve had this conversation before: you stole M.J. from
me, you stole my father’s love and his life from me.Since high school, all I ever heard was ‘Peter, Peter,
Peter.’If you don’t think that didn’t
hurt like a knife to the gut, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Harry—”

“Shut up!”Harry
spun around and whipped the glass at Peter. With his mutant speed, Peter
sidestepped the glass, letting it shatter against the support beam as shards
bounced harmlessly off his back.

“I didn’t know until it was too late,” Peter pleaded quietly
with Harry.“I would have told you
afterward, but I had promised.”

“Sometimes promises are meant to be broken,” Harry gestured
widely, encompassing the room, “especially when this is being hidden
from me.”

“Your father didn’t want you to be disappointed in him.”

“Disappointed?” Harry’s voice raised an octave.“He killed people.The board members; people I knew all my
life.He dressed up as a freak, put
your Aunt May in the hospital, and threw M.J. off the Queensborough
Bridge.”Harry’s eyes narrowed.“And another freak rescued her.”

Peter’s shoulders hunched as he drew in on himself.He’d just come to terms with being
Spider-man, but one word from Harry brought his self-doubts and recriminations
flooding back.“I rescued a cable-car
of children, too,” he mumbled defensively.

“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about that.You also saved half of New York tonight,
too, I guess, considering I’m not dead.”Harry clapped mockingly.“Bravo,
Peter.Or should I call you
‘Spider-Man’?Or how about just
‘Spidey’?”

Peter bit his lower lip, trying and failing to blink back
the tears.It had been a mistake coming
to the penthouse.How could he think
that Harry would ever forgive him or understand?

Harry moved suddenly and Peter reacted without
thinking.He was anxious, on edge, and
exhausted from fighting Octavius all day, and he was stuck to the sloped
ceiling before he realized he’d jumped.Wide-eyed, he stared down at Harry standing below him.

“Shit, Pete…”Harry
appeared awestruck, as if the last fifteen minutes hadn’t occurred.“I mean, I knew, because you were in the
costume, but I didn’t… Jesus, Pete, you’re on the ceiling!”

“Yeah, sorry.”Peter
rubbed away the tears and the tiredness from his eyes.“It’s been a long day.I’m kinda jumpy.”

“Jumpy.”Harry’s
laugh was somewhat unstable.

Peter smiled self-deprecatingly.

Harry continued to look at him, falling silent for a long
moment.“Pete, did you let my father
die?”

Peter shook his head.“It happened too fast, even for me.I would’ve stopped the glider if I could.I really liked your dad, Harry, except for when he put you down.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed with color suddenly.He looked away and cleared his throat.“What about his killing people?”

Peter closed his eyes and held on to his best friend, as
relief swept through him.He knew
things would be rough: losing M.J., patching relationships, balancing school,
Spider-Man responsibilities, and holding a job, but he could handle it.